A Spider's Web
by FutureMrsStabler
Summary: The lives of the SVU team are turned upside down when they are assigned an urgent case...a serial killer with a love for games and mutilation. What they don't know is that he is closer than they realize...and he has Elliot in his sights.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a wonderful genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note**: This is my first attempt at fan fiction. I am a huge fan of this show and love reading stories on this site. This is an idea I have been playing with, it will take off as more chapters are written. I will continue regardless of however many reviews I receive because I enjoy doing it. But feedback would be so wonderful! Please take the time to share your opinion with me.

"Good morning Manhattan! It's a beautiful day, perfect for outdoors. Take a lunch break outside and enjoy!" The overly perky voice of the channel 3 meteorologist filtered through the small apartment, and Detective Olivia Benson resisted the urge to hurl the remote straight through the glass. "Beautiful?" she repeated in disgust. She stalked to the window and pulled up the shade, revealing the dark sky and pouring rain drenching the fire escape. "Does _this_ look beautiful to you?" Shaking her head, she finished brushing her teeth and looked at the clock beside her bed. 7:15. She decided to head to work extra early because she knew people in New York drove like maniacs in the rain. _Good thing I live close to the precinct,_ she thought. Grabbing her rain coat, she picked up her purse and locked the door behind her, preparing to run for her car.

Forty miles away, Detective Elliot Stabler wasn't so lucky. He usually grabbed breakfast before heading to work in the morning, but decided against it today. He knew he would need all the extra time just getting into the city. He left his small apartment in Queens and headed for his black SUV. The radio came on when he started the ignition, and he turned it up as he headed for the highway. "Looks like a nasty day, folks," came a reporter's voice. "No shit, Shirlock," Elliot muttered, looking over his shoulder as he merged onto the interstate. A sea of red lights was ahead, signaling stopped cars, and it stretched on as far as the eye could see. "What the hell….?" He slowed. "And for today's list of accidents….not a good report," the radio continued. "We've got a collision in the Midway tunnel that should be cleared within the hour, and an accident with minor injuries along the Expressway. In the Queens area, there is a multiple car accident just over the Queens Bridge that has both lanes blocked. Expect 2-3 hour delays." "Oh, excellent," Elliot moaned. That explained the traffic. "Just excellent." He switched off the radio angrily and shifted his truck into park. He was miles away from any exit ramps, so he had no choice but to sit and wait.

When Olivia arrived at the 16th precinct, everyone but Elliot was already there, hard at work. She headed to the coffeepot, pouring herself a cup and going to her desk. Captain Don Cragen came out of his office, handing her a file. "I just spoke to Elliot," he told her. "There was an accident in Queens and traffic is backed up for miles. He won't be here for a while." "Good, that means we'll have a chance to fill out our forms without getting slobber all over us," Detective John Munch piped up, looking over from his desk. Olivia laughed out loud. Her partner had a habit on chewing on his pen when he was frustrated. He usually didn't even notice he was doing it, and would put it back in the cup when he finished his work, starting on a new one a few minutes later. It disgusted Olivia, who kept a supply of pens in her desk just for that reason. Cragen rolled his eyes. His partner, Fin Tutuola, shook his head. "He's just sore because he's the only one who can't keep track of his writing utensils and has to use Elliot's," he said. Shaking his head, the captain said, "We've got a new case, but I want every one here to hear it because it's unusual," he said. "Get some paperwork done until Elliot gets here." The three exchanged mystified looks as they did as they were told.

It was 10:30 when Elliot blew in to the squad room, soaking wet. "Sorry, sorry," he said, breathlessly. He was holding his files under his coat to keep them dry and was trying to juggle a coffee mug with one hand. He set his files and mug down, shrugging off his coat. Olivia grabbed the mug and filled it while he went to his locker, setting two creams and three sugars beside it on his desk. "Thanks," he said, winking at her. She smiled, rolling her eyes. The captain came out of his office, clearing his throat. "Now that every one has…_arrived_…." He paused, fixing Elliot with a stern stare. He shifted uncomfortably and blushed slightly. "We can get started on this." Olivia handed Elliot the file to look over while he spoke. "First of all, no, you aren't looking at the wrong files," Cragen began. "This is a murder investigation that has no signs of sexual nature." He held up his hand to stall the flurry of questions he saw on everyone's lips. "It has been handed to every squad in the department, regardless of their field, and is expected by the mayor to take top priority." "What in the world is so important that Carlucci wants every one to take the same case?" Olivia asked. "Fifteen years ago, just before I became a captain, a serial killer was ravaging the entire area from Jersey to Georgia. He killed 15 people in each state, each one in a different, horrible way, and left the bodies mangled for the police to find," Cragen said. "By the time he got to us, he had been dubbed "The Butcher" by New Jersey police, because all they were finding were severed body parts of his victims. It would take weeks for the Medical Examiner to identify one victim, leaving him plenty of time to strike again. We were expecting him, and assembled a task force in the area we were predicting he would strike." The captain went silent. "But he didn't," he finally said. "He just…vanished. We never found any links to the victims, and it was labeled a cold case." He turned and tacked a photo onto the bulletin board. It was of a woman's torso, mutilated beyond recognition except for her genital area. The four detectives went dead silent as they looked at it. The captain turned toward them with a grim face and stared at his team. He finally spoke a minute later. "He's back."

Please read and review….I will continue regardless but I would like some comments. Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a wonderful genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Stunned silence filled the squad room for a few minutes. Olivia finally spoke. She had to clear her throat before any words would come out. "When…when was she found?" "Last night," the captain replied. "I had a fax from the mayor on my desk when I walked in this morning, along with crime scene photos." Elliot shook his head, disturbed. He looked away from the board, unable to bear the image anymore. "For now, all SVU cases are being suspended until some headway is made on this," Cragen said. "I want you four to go to the crime scene. CSU has been there since six am, but this rain has pretty much washed away any evidence they may have found." They looked at each other for a minute, before Munch asked what they were all thinking. "If there is no evidence to look for, why are we going?" The captain fixed him with a pointed stare. "I meant fingerprints and what not," he said. "Trust me….once you see what he did leave behind, you'll have no questions as to evidence."

"Damn." Olivia and Elliot had been riding in silence for the past hour, each one's head filled with this new case, and he finally broke it. Olivia looked at him, and he stared at her. "I thought I'd seen it all, you know?" he asked. He started to continue, but just shook his head. "I thought murdered rape victims were the worst thing there was to see," she said. "It's times like this I wish I had become a traffic cop instead." He nodded in agreement and they lapsed into silence again, listening to the rain pounding on the roof.

"You know, when I was in college we learned about serial killers." Fin looked at his partner as they followed Elliot's car through the city. Munch looked at him with his signature raised eyebrows. "But in all my years in Homicide, I never worked with one. Not one time." Fin pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows back at him, acknowledging he was listening but not saying anything in reply. A minute later, he sighed. "Narcotics was murder all the time," he said quietly. "It amazed me how often drug dealers felt the need to kill someone." A moment passed as they listened to the rain. "No matter how many times I see it, death still upsets me." Munch nodded. "Same here," he agreed. Trying to lighten the mood, he said, "You think it's a conspiracy? Death is probably the only thing guaranteed in life, but it's the one thing that has people locking their doors and wearing straightjackets." Fin looked at him, half-disgusted and half-annoyed. "Shut up, man," he growled softly. He didn't have the desire to put any snap behind it this time.

The four detectives found the abandoned field after a half-hour of driving. It was swarming with CSU technicians, but not one other police officer was in sight. Getting out, they walked over. "Detectives Benson and Stabler," Elliot said, approaching one man. "Munch and Tutuola. We're from Manhattan Special Victims Unit." The man got up from his crouched position and took off his glove, offering his hand. "Will Bowers," he said. "Chief Crime Scene Investigator." They all nodded. "What have you found?" Olivia asked. Bowers led them over to an area where several technicians were busily digging with shovels. "We uncovered several severed limbs about three feet down," he said. The detectives noticed, for the first time, a blanket on the ground. It had a human hand, a toe, and a few unidentifiable pieces of flesh. Fin swallowed hard. "We're going deeper to see if there's more, but it's not very likely." Olivia had a horrified expression on her face. "If you want to grab a shovel, you're more than welcome," Bowers said grimly. They exchanged glances and remained unmoving. Elliot was the first to move, going to the tent set up nearby and taking a shovel. The others followed. No one noticed the rain drenching them as they worked alongside the technicians, and no one spoke.

A pair of powerful field glasses surveyed the open field from 50 feet away. A man in a forest green poncho stood next to an old station wagon, parked in an abandoned gravel lot off of the highway. Terrified moans could be heard from the open trunk. He smiled down at his prize as it thrashed wildly, trying to release itself from its bonds. The green-eyed man struggled with the ropes binding him, trying to breathe behind the gag in his mouth, and whimpered. The sounds got louder as the trunk was slammed shut. The man in the poncho paid no attention, coming around the front of the car and sitting on the hood. He lifted the glasses to his eyes again and scanned the area. His interest was sparked when he saw that four other people had joined the large uniformed group in digging. They wore no uniforms, but their presence radiated some kind of authority. He scanned each one. A tall man, wearing a black trench coat and dark glasses. He surveyed his face and saw dark eyes. Moving on, he trained on the black man beside him. Dark eyes as well. He moved to the dark-haired woman. She moved to brush a strand of hair from her face and he saw her mocha-colored eyes. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, he focused on the last man. He was dark-haired as well, and from his position, the man could see what he thought were brown eyes. Hissing in frustration, he put the glasses down. Suddenly, the group put down the shovels and headed for the tent. He put the glasses up again. The male officer he had looked at last turned to say something to the woman, and through the glasses the crystal sapphire of his eyes stood out in stark contrast to the other three. The man's heart thumped and he kept his glasses trained on the beautiful orbs as the man moved away. Picking up his notepad, he scribbled down the license plate number of the car the man got into. He smiled in though as he put the glasses in the passenger seat of the station wagon and drove off in the opposite direction.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much all who reviewed! I definitely wasn't expecting this to be so well liked! I will try my best to make the paragraphs easier to read, sorry about that.

The morning was still and quiet in the early dawn hours. Moans could be heard from inside the empty apartment. Olivia thrashed around in her bed, twisting the covers around herself as a nightmare assaulted her. The phone noisily intruded her thoughts and she awoke with a yell. Bolting upright, she sat still, breathing hard. She wiped the sweat from her eyes and reached a shaking hard toward the nightstand. She swallowed hard. "Benson," she gasped, relaxing against the headboard.

"It's me," Elliot said. "Cragen got a call from the M.E. He wants us down." "Got it," she muttered, running a hand through her hair. He paused, furrowing his brow as he listened to her breathing. "Are you ok?" he asked. She threw the blankets aside and lowered her feet to the floor, stretching. "Yeah, I'm fine," she answered. Her voice was stronger. "See you in a few." She replaced the receiver and stood up, walking to the bathroom. Four days had passed since the initial discovery of the body. The detectives hadn't received a single lead on this guy "The Butcher". Nobody even remembered him except for the few older veterans of the force. The image of the mutilated woman had stuck in Olivia's mind though, resulting in disturbed sleep every time she tried to relax. Shaking her head, she set the shower temperature hotter than normal and stepped in, effectively erasing the thoughts from her memory.

The other three arrived at the Medical Examiner's office around the same time she did. The red-haired woman waved the detectives in when she noticed them. "Morning, guys," she said. She had worked on several SVU cases and was friendly with all of them.

"Ah…I notice you didn't say 'good'," Munch said. She grimaced at him. "This is hardly my idea of a good morning," she said grimly, pulling out a slab. The torso of the victim was lying on it, and other various body parts were next to it. "CSU dropped these off yesterday," she said. "There were more, but the rain made them too soggy to piece them together enough to form a solid structure." Fin pulled a horrified face at her description.

So can you tell us who she is?" Elliot asked, looking at the slab. She drew a gloved finger across the pasty white stomach of the corpse. "There are incisions right above the breastbone," she said. "The head and neck were removed still intact together." Elliot looked confused. "How come there aren't any bones sticking out?" he asked. "Wouldn't the neck have to be broken in order to remove the head from the body?" The M.E.'s lips curled in disgust as she answered him.

"See these holes here?" she asked, pointing to the underside of the breastbone. They leaned forward to see what she was talking about. Sure enough two small holes, equal distance apart, were drilled into the flesh. "He made these crevices big enough to pop the bones clean out of the sockets before he removed them, probably with a hacksaw." She shook her head in disturbance. "The dried blood indicates she was still alive when he was doing this. Otherwise, the crevices would be full of post-mortem puss."

Olivia's face paled. "You're saying she was alive when he was cutting into her?" The woman nodded gravely. "Unfortunately, that's exactly what I'm saying." She looked at the group standing next to her in sympathy. "Would you like me to move on or do you need a break?" "There's more?" Elliot asked in shock.

She pursed her lips, moving to the body parts. "I lifted DNA samples from the hand and foot. I was able to identify the others after collected individual skin cells from each and transferring them to the Department of Forensic Science at the University of Virginia."

"What did you find?" Munch asked, removing his glasses and wiping them with his shirt. "I sent 8 skin cells along with the DNA and not one thing matched," she said. "Each one had a different genetic code." There was stunned silence as the detectives realized what she was implying.

She shook her head and looked at them with a resigned sigh. "I hate to make your lives more complicated….but you're looking at 11 different victims here."

Classical music filtered through the darkened residence. The scraping of chains from down below drowned out the shrieks of the green-eyed prisoner. His captor ignored them as he sat at his computer, eyes closed in serenity as he hummed along to the chords of Bach. He logged into the Department of Motor Vehicles website and typed in the license plate number he had written down on his notepad. A "restricted access" warning flashed, but he hacked his way through it using the identification badge he had swiped the day before.

After a moment, the number appeared and confirmed that it belonged to a government vehicle issued to the New York Police Department. A few more keystrokes revealed it was currently being used by the Special Victims Unit located at the 16th precinct in Manhattan. Logging into the 16th precinct webpage, he typed the words "Special Victims Unit", and was brought to a web page listing positions and employees. Head shots of each member were featured, and he leisurely strolled down until he located the one he was looking for. He clicked on it. "Elliot Stabler," he read. "1st grade detective, member 11 years."

Swiveling around in his chair, he reached for the cell phone lying on the desk next to him. He dialed a number and waited as it connected. "Department of Motor Vehicles," chirped a woman's voice. "Hello," the man said. "I was recently in a car accident and the insurance company needs the address of the guy I hit so they can mail him a statement. It wasn't listed on his insurance card, and I have no way to contact him." "Ok, sir," she said. Clacking of computer keys echoed over the phone.

"What is the other man's name?" "Elliot Stabler," he replied. "S-T-A-B-L-E-R." "Thank you," she said. She put him on hold, and he smiled in delight. A minute later, she returned. "Yes, sir," she said. "Elliot Stabler. Black Ford Explorer, New York plates?" "Yes, ma'am," he answered, grinning wildly. "I'm sorry….my handwriting is kind of sloppy. Could you read the plate number for me?" "Sure," she said. "JYB-13TS. Address is 646 Fresno Avenue, Apartment 35B in Queens, New York." "Thank you," he replied, scribbling down the information. "What company are you insured by, sir?" she asked. "Allstate," he answered quickly, and hung up before she could say anything. His smile widened with glee as he taped the paper to his computer monitor. Then he headed downstairs to his prisoner.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

"So we went from one victim to almost a dozen?" Cragen's tone was incredulous as he looked as his detectives. Elliot nodded. "Looks that way," he answered. "The bastard was in New York the whole time."

The four went silent, frustration and fatigue evident in each of their faces. The day had been one endless circle. As they left the  
Medical Examiner's office, Elliot had gotten a call from an irate District Attorney Arthur Branch, demanding to know why he and Olivia "don't have your asses in my office as we speak". It was then that they remembered that they were both supposed to testify at a court hearing against a child molester the next morning. After the frenzy of the new case, they had completely pushed it off. They left quickly after making Munch and Fin promise to call them if the results came back from the skin samples.

Then, as the other two were heading toward the precinct, Fin drove over a nail in the road and popped the tire of the car. It had taken an hour to put in the spare and another two to get another car out to them. As soon as they got back into the city, a domestic disturbance at one of the curbside homes had spilled out into the street, causing a riot scene between uniformed officers and members of the family. The two detectives had no choice but to step in and assist.

Elliot and Olivia spent two hours going over their testimonies and finally broke free, returning to the precinct at the same time as Munch and Fin. No sooner had they gotten a chance to take a coffee break when the ME called back, saying she had the results of the sample. Elliot and Olivia volunteered to go out there, only to find that it the results had been mixed up during testing and the ones they needed were still in Virginia. Agitated, they drove back toward the city _again_, this time to find a gridlock of cars just after the highway. They finally made it to the precinct at 4:30 and had collapsed at their respective desks, mentally spent.

Cragen looked at his watch and made a quick decision. "Go home, you guys," he said. "It's been a hectic day around here, and I need you all in top shape. Be back at 8 am tomorrow." They looked at each other for a minute, trying to decide if he was serious. Fin was the first to jump up, going to his locker and hightailing it out the door. The other three grinned and got up as well. Elliot lingered a minute. "Are you sure, Captain?" he asked, hesitantly. "What if something comes up?" "If something comes up, you'll all get calls," Cragen answered firmly. "Go, or else I'll find you some files to organize." "Yes, sir," Elliot replied quickly, and followed hastily after Olivia. Cragen shook his head and chuckled.

Elliot pulled into his parking spot and stepped out of his SUV, locking it behind him. He stopped by his mailbox and then headed upstairs. He juggled mail and keys as he jiggled his locks, swearing as the third one stuck before releasing. Closing the door and locking it behind him, he threw the mail on the counter to look at later and headed straight for his bedroom. He toed off his shoes and threw on a robe, heading for a hot shower. He relaxed inside and let the water ease the kinks from his neck. When he finished, feeling slightly less tense, he threw on his boxers and climbed under the covers. He relished the feeling of cool sheets on his skin as he flipped on the TV and turned off the lights.

A station wagon sat abandoned in the parking lot of the townhouse complex directly across the street. Its occupant was perched precariously on the third floor fire escape with a photo lens camera directed toward the far window. The shutter button snapped rapidly the minute his target entered the apartment.

The man's heart thumped as he zoomed in on the beautiful blue eyes, and he felt lightheaded. Panting shallowly, he waited impatiently as Elliot showered and went into the bedroom. Moving slightly, he moved the lens toward the bedroom window and continued the shots. A low squeal sounded deep in the man's throat when he watched Elliot strip and climb into bed. The lights when off, and the now-darkened room created the perfect backdrop. The man zoomed in on the bed and excitedly kept taking pictures as Elliot fell asleep.

It was back to business the next morning. Olivia and Elliot went to court as promised, and by some miracle were able to leave after an hour and a half. "I need chocolate," Olivia declared, as soon as they exited the courtroom. She headed straight for the vending machines. Elliot laughed as he followed her. She selected a Hershey's Special Dark and deposited 75 cents. "Want anything?" she asked, as she bent to retrieve it. He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "Chocolate at ten in the morning?" he asked. "I'll pass." She deposited another 75 cents for a soda and they went back towards the precinct.

The morning was sunny and cheery, and the detectives were grateful for a break in the dreary weather. Elliot swiped Olivia's soda can and took a long swig. She elbowed him gently and snatched it back, making a show of wiping the rim. She laughed at his sour face. She decided to rib him a little. "Was it just me, or was someone dozing during the closing arguments?" she teased. He happened to let out a yawn just then, and she cracked up. He grinned in return. "Ok, so I'm a little tired today," he said. "I didn't get much sleep last night." He didn't mention the way he had awoken several times feeling unusually creeped out.

She looked at him in mock disappointment and waggled her finger at him. "What did I tell you about watching late night Spice Channel, Elliot?" Her comment surprised him, and he let out a loud laugh. The sound filled Olivia with happiness; she loved it when Elliot let go of the "tough guy detective" and became his goofy self.

"Hey….don't look so smug, missy," he replied, raising his eyebrows at her. He leaned toward her like he was sharing top secret information. "I know about those magazines under your bed, Olivia Benson." He tried to keep his tone stern. It lasted all of two seconds as he cracked up again. She was doubled over from laughing so hard. They were drawing stares from people passing them, and to two stressed detectives, it felt wonderful.

Captain Cragen was waiting impatiently when they returned, still laughing like loons. "Benson, Stabler," he said sternly. "Get in here." They sobered immediately at his tone and walked into the squad room. "What's going on?" Elliot asked, looking at his colleagues somber expressions. "Victim number 12," Cragen answered.

Olivia's eyes widened in shock. "You're kidding me," she said. She looked at the captain in disbelief. "When?" "Guy walking his dog in the park next to the Hudson River discovered it," Fin answered. "6 am this morning. Threw the dog a stick to fetch and it came back with an arm."

A Fed-Ex truck was parked next to the precinct. The man driving wore a uniform and pedestrians paid him no mind as he casually crossed the street and walked around the building. Strolling into the parking lot, he walked along the rows of cars, stopping at the black Explorer. Taking an instrument from his pocket, he deftly rolled underneath the vehicle in one swift move and began working.

Olivia was ashamed to admit that she didn't even flinch this time at the sight of the human body parts. _How did I get used to this kind of carnage?_ she thought bitterly. They were scattered throughout the wooded area next to the park. She saw an ear, a finger, and a piece of scalp. She noticed her partner appeared very shaken. He was crouched next to one of the crime scene markers, scribbling notes, and she could see his hands trembling.

Munch and Fin were talking to the man who had made the discovery, and she glanced discreetly at them to make sure they weren't listening. She knelt next to him and placed a hand on his back. "Are you ok?" she asked, softly. He swallowed hard. "I'm fine," he said gruffly. When he met her gaze, his eyes betrayed him. She looked at him in concern. He stood up quickly, walking away.

She was walking towards the others when she suddenly heard Elliot yell, "Oh SHIT!" She whipped around in time to see him tumble to his knees and vomit. She hurried to his side. "Elliot!" she said in surprise. He shuddered as his stomach convulsed again and he spewed the contents. The other officers on scene came over, thinking something was wrong. With an embarrassed groan, he spat and wiped his mouth. She rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "What happened?" she asked.

He breathed hard, scrubbing at his eyes. He looked toward the side, and she followed his gaze. She couldn't hold back her surprised gasp as she saw what had made him so upset. Lying a few feet away, on a bed of pine straw, was a green human eyeball.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Olivia followed her partner back to their car. He dug the keys from his pocket and tossed them to her, getting in the passenger seat. She started the ignition and, despite the cold weather, turned the air conditioner on low. She turned the vents toward her partner and positioned them so that the cool air would hit his face. Elliot sighed and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. "Thanks, Liv," he murmured.

She smiled sympathetically. "Do you want to stop and get something to settle your stomach?" she asked, shifting the car into drive. "Maybe some ginger ale or something?" He shook his head. "That's alright; my stomach's better now." He sighed.

"How embarrassing is that? I haven't thrown up on the job since my second week out of the academy." She knew exactly what kind of shame an officer felt when being caught puking at a crime scene. She had done it, too, as a rookie. She wisely kept her mouth shut to avoid striking any nerves.

They went back to the precinct. Elliot went to the coffee pot and grabbed two mugs. Munch approached him as he filled them. He got close to him and peered at him over the top of his glasses, keeping his voice low to avoid drawing attention. "Are you alright?"

Elliot glanced briefly at him and quickly turned his attention back to the coffee. "Yeah, thanks," he answered, equally as quiet. Munch smiled softly, briefly squeezing his friend's back before going back to his desk.

Olivia accepted the coffee with a smile of thanks and took a sip. She immediately grimaced and leaned forward to grab Elliot's hand as he was lifting his mug to his mouth. She rolled her eyes and took his mug, handing him the one he had given her. He looked at her sheepishly. "Sorry," he said, grinning.

The door to the captain's office opened and Cragen stepped partway out. "Elliot," he said, gesturing to him. "Got a minute?" He stood up, going inside, and the captain shut the door. He stood in front of the desk expectantly. "You feeling alright?" the captain asked. Elliot looked at him with slight puzzlement. "Yes, sir," he answered. "I feel fine."

Cragen gave him a look. Elliot recognized it….he had seen it so many times in his life from his mother, the nuns at his Catholic school, his daughters, his ex-wife…..it clearly said "I don't believe you". "Only first-timers throw up, Elliot," he said. He kept his tone light, sounding almost paternal. Elliot grimaced. He should have known that would have hit the grapevine right away.

"Olivia said you didn't sleep well last night." His head shot up from his gaze at the desktop. "Captain-"he protested. "You look wiped, Elliot," Cragen interrupted him. He held up his hand to stall the protests forming. "Go home. Things are light enough around here to accommodate. If we get any leads, Olivia will call."

He sighed. "Yes, sir," he conceded, knowing he would make it an order if he refused. He went to his desk and gathered his files. "Someone has a big mouth," he grumbled good-naturedly. She knew he wasn't upset, and smiled. He _was_ tired, he had to admit, and despite what he'd told Olivia earlier, his stomach was quite queasy. "Get some sleep," she advised. He nodded, smiling. "See ya tomorrow," she said.

The man watched as Elliot got into his Explorer and pulled out of the parking lot. He pulled his station wagon away from the curb a minute later and followed from three cars behind.

The drive back to his apartment seemed longer than usual for some reason, probably because he wasn't used to going home in the middle of the day. _Well…may as well enjoy it,_ he thought. _It probably won't happen again for 10 years! _ . He turned on the radio, stopping when he heard an Aerosmith song. "Alright!" he cried, cranking it up. No one in the office knew how much he loved listening to Aerosmith….and singing along as loud as possible.

He was sure he looked ridiculous singing and beating the steering wheel in time to the music, but…what the heck? It wasn't like there was anyone around to see him. He smiled as the song ended, and turned down the radio. He took the Queens exit and found the highway deserted. He was startled when the SUV began to speed up. He quickly tapped the brakes, thinking the accelerator had stuck, and they didn't move. "What the hell?" he cried, swerving as he went into the other lane. The speedometer continued to climb. 45 mph….55 mph… Elliot took his foot off of the gas. The truck didn't slow. He pumped the brakes. Nothing. .

Elliot started to panic when he saw the dead end street straight in front of him. He jerked the steering wheel to the left and the tires squealed as the Explorer became airborne. A tree appeared in front of him before he could blink, and the truck slammed into it. His head smacked the steering column as the air bag deployed with brutal force.

The station wagon pulled up behind him, the driver stepping out. Half-conscious, Elliot was only dimly aware of his door opening and hands pulling him onto the ground. He groaned as he hit the pavement, and the man smiled as he pulled a hypodermic needle from the pocket of his poncho.

Squatting, he jammed it into Elliot's neck. The man watched as Elliot jumped, and then sank into unconsciousness. Whistling, he turned him over and jerked his hands behind his back, binding them with a bungee cord. He picked up his burden in a fireman's carry and opened the trunk.

He slammed Elliot into it and shut the lid. Then he back to the damaged Explorer and placed some items in the front seat before getting into his own car. He whistled as he turned on the tape player, and strains of Bach filled the car as he got back on the highway and headed south.

Ahh! I know, I know….you all want to kill me for writing yet ANOTHER cliffhanger chapter! Whoa….flaming sticks DOWN, please! I am writing the next chapter as we speak, so don't give up on me yet! I will post it ASAP!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: **I realize many of you would like longer chapters. I will be the first to admit I love to read long chapters, too. When I wrote this originally, it was one whole piece. It's difficult to split into chapters because I have to scrutinize just how much I want to reveal without giving everything away too quickly. I will try my best…bear with me!

_Drip. Drip. Drip._ The echoing sound cut into Elliot's sub conscience, bringing him out of his foggy state. He opened his eyes slowly. He was lying on hard ground, with his hands and feet tightly tied. Panic set in immediately. He tried to yell, but choked on the gag that was placed in his mouth.

Footsteps neared him, and suddenly a man with a ghastly face was looming over him. Silently, the man hauled Elliot upright and sat him in a chair. Then he turned back to the desk behind him and sat down again. Looking around, Elliot noticed that the wall behind the man was covered with newspaper clippings and pictures.

He scanned the bold headlines of the papers that were yellowed with age: **SERIAL KILLER RAVAGES LOCAL WOMAN. VICTIM DISCOVERED IN LANDFILL. "THE BUTCHER" FEARED TO HIT NEW JERSEY NEXT. ** The man began taping new pictures on the wall, and Elliot recognized the crime scene from that morning. _Oh my God._ It suddenly hit him full force who he was staring at, and he started to shake.

The man finished with the pictures and turned around. He smiled at his quivering prize. Elliot shrank back as the man approached him and reached out to touch his face. "Don't worry, my beauties," he said, staring into the blue eyes. "You'll have a nice new home real soon."

Olivia switched off her desk lamp at 8:30 and yawned. She said goodnight to the captain and headed to her car. She decided to stop by the grocery store, since she knew she was out of milk and would want some the next morning. As she drove, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Elliot's home number. It rang eight times before disconnecting.

She started to dial his cell phone, but stopped. He was probably asleep. He had a tendency to unplug his home phone when he didn't want to be disturbed, but she knew he always had his cell phone on in case work called. She also knew that it was probably lying right next to his head right now, and she didn't want to wake him if she didn't have to.

When she got home a half-hour later, she made herself some pancakes for dinner and popped _The Waterboy_ into her DVD player. She was really in the mood for a laugh tonight, and Adam Sandler never failed to send her into fits. She lay down on the couch and pulled a blanket over herself as it began.

She started awake, unaware she had fallen asleep, when her cell phone beeped to indicate a dead battery. The TV screen was snowy. Light streamed into the room, and she blinked. She reached into her pocket and flipped the phone open. "7:30!" she cried, bolting upright. She shot to her feet and scrambled for the shower.

By the skin of her teeth, Olivia was at the station at 8:15. She blew in and went to her desk, trying to ignore the smoldering stare the captain turned on her. "Sorry, sir," she said sheepishly. "I don't appreciate having half of my team show up late, Benson," he said, sternly. "Elliot better be right behind you." She turned around and noticed that her partner's desk was empty.

That was very strange, considering how he'd been allowed to leave early the previous day. When Cragen went back to his office, she dialed his cell phone. It rang five times. _Hey, you've reached Elliot Stabler. Leave me a message and I'll get back to you. _ "Elliot, you'd better be on your way," she said into the phone. "Cragen's on our asses." She hung up and began her morning paperwork.

Elliot squirmed around, desperately trying to free his hands. The man had removed the gag from his mouth before disappearing from the room, leaving him still tied up in the chair. He had yelled a few times, hoping someone heard him, but all he heard was the echo of his own voice. A loud ringing sound made him jump, and his eyes widened as he realized he had his cell phone in his pocket.

He twisting his hands painfully, trying to reach his back pocket. It kept ringing. "Please, God, please," he breathed, grunting. He yelled in frustration at another unsuccessful attempt. Out of nowhere came a loud bang. He jumped again, whipping around. His captor stood before him. Helplessly, Elliot watched as he pulled the phone from his pocket and put it into his own. He stared coldly at Elliot before walking back towards the door. "Please!" Elliot cried. "Why are you doing this!" The man said nothing as he left the room. The door shut with a loud clang.

Cragen came charging out of his office, fuming. It was an hour later, and Elliot still hadn't arrived. He hadn't even called. The other three quickly quieted, not wanting to set off their boss. "Olivia!" he barked. She grimaced. "Sir?" she replied. "Have you been able to reach Stabler?" he demanded. "Um…no sir," she said.

He scoffed angrily. "That's it," he said. "Go to his house. Now. If he's there, you tell him he's got ass duty for the next month." She didn't even ask him about what would happen if he wasn't there. If he wasn't there, Cragen would probably kill him.

She took the Queens exit off of the highway and zoomed toward her partner's apartment. She had tried twice more to call him while on her way. A small twinge of worry was starting to form in her gut now. She pulled into his complex and immediately saw that his car wasn't there. _Oh, boy_, she thought. She sincerely hoped he was on his way to the precinct. Hopping out of her car, she went to the door and buzzed for good measure. No answer. Returning to her car, she headed back, dreading telling the captain of her findings.

She was about to get back on the highway when she saw what looked like a car accident on a side street. Concerned, she reversed and headed toward it. Her stomach plummeted when she saw the familiar black Explorer slammed into a tree. She leaped from the car without turning off the ignition or shutting the door. "Elliot!" she screamed frantically, sprinting to the driver's side. She pulled open the door. What she saw inside made her vision spin. She gripped the car door as her knees buckled and she threatened to fall. Blindly pulling out her cell phone, she dialed Cragen's number.

Cragen, Munch, and Finn were there in 10 minutes, followed closely by three squad cars. They quickly went to Olivia, who was sitting on the ground against the back tire. "What is it?" Cragen asked, going to her first. He hadn't been able to get much from her hysterical phone call other than the word "accident". "Are you alright?" She shook her head, pointing a shaky hand toward the open driver's side door.

He noticed, for the first time, that he was looking at Elliot's truck. His heart beat wildly as he joined Munch and Fin. They had horrified expressions on their faces, and Don suddenly became afraid of how bad it could look. Why hadn't anybody called an ambulance? But nothing in the world could have prepared him for what he saw. Swallowing hard, he looked at his three detectives, and back inside the car.

Lying on the driver's seat were Elliot's gun and badge. Hanging from the steering wheel was a note scrawled in blood red ink:

"_Come and visit in my web",_

_The spider said to the fly,_

"_I have a game for you to play,_

_Blue Eyes will be the prize."_


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Cragen let out a shaky breath. _This can't be happening_, he thought. He ran a nervous hand over his bald head and turned toward his team. They were looking at him with lost expressions. Clearly they were expecting him to do something.

Putting up a confident front that he didn't feel, Don took control. "I'm going to call CSU and wait for them to get out here," he said. "I want all of you back at the precinct. Right now. Don't go anywhere until I get back." The detectives immediately obeyed, running to their vehicles. As they drove out of sight, Cragen looked helplessly back toward the SUV. The fear he wouldn't show in front of the others was clear in his eyes.

How long he sat there alone, Elliot had no idea. He was sick with fear. All he could think about was the images of butchered human remains that the squad had been finding for the past week. He realized with dread that nobody would even know he was gone until he didn't show up for work in the morning. _Who knows how many hours that is?_

The clanging sound made him jump again. The man entered the room and headed straight for him. He felt himself be lifted up and the man hauled him over his shoulder, walking out of the room. He screamed for help as the man carried him down a flight of stairs. The man suddenly stopped and Elliot felt himself be thrown from the man's grip.

His stomach dropped violently as he felt himself falling fast through pitch blackness. He landed on concrete, hearing a splash. Freezing cold invaded his back. Pain shot through his body as he lay stunned in a puddle of water. He looked around frantically when he heard the sound of running water somewhere close, but had no idea where it was coming from. He jumped about ten feet when he heard a loud clang directly above his head.

Olivia, John, and Fin sat in the captain's office, waiting for him to return. No one had spoken a word upon arriving. Fin was sitting ramrod straight, his hands clenching and unclenching nervously. Munch was leaned forward, his fingers linked together so tightly that they were white. Olivia was beside herself. She kept taking deep, quiet breaths to keep from breaking down into tears. The trio leaped to their feet when the captain entered the office.

Cragen saw their anxious expressions as he stood before them. He became scared when he saw the expectation in their eyes. Of course they were expecting him to know what to do….he was the captain. How could he tell them that he was as much of a wreck as they were?

"You guys…." He began speaking, and trailed off helplessly. _I don't have the slightest clue what to do!_ Don saw their faces flood with horror, and he suddenly realized he had spoken aloud. "I'm-I'm sorry," he stammered, flushing. _Dammit! _He realized at that moment that he couldn't allow himself to feel, at least not right now. Someone had to suck it up and start thinking or Elliot wouldn't have a chance. By the looks of his team, he realized it had to be him.

The man quickly clicked on his flashlight and descended down the rope ladder, closing the sewer lid. He shone the light around until he hit Elliot, lying rigid and shaking like a leaf. The fear in his eyes made them shine bright, and the man was filled with joy at the sight of them.

The light moved from over him, and Elliot heard the man walking around him. He rolled his eyes upward, trying to follow the flashlight beam to see what he was doing. It made his head ache, and he couldn't keep it up. He heard a light scraping noise and feet coming back toward him. The beam was over him again, and Elliot saw that the man was standing at his feet with a metal bucket in his hand.

The man grinned at him, his twisted face appearing even more deformed. "Let's play a game," he rasped. Elliot flinched at his voice; he sounded like he had lung cancer. "I bet I can guess what you're most afraid of." Elliot blinked rapidly, trying to control his racing heart. _Don't buy it,_ he thought, trying to calm himself. _Not even Olivia knows that; there's no way this guy could…_ The man reached into the bucket, and Elliot suddenly felt the world spinning. He was holding a large brown tarantula out by its middle. Elliot could see the creature's legs moving, and he thought he was going to faint.

The man came closer, and Elliot sucked in a horrified breath when he felt the large spider land on his chest. He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood, in a desperate attempt not to freak out. A giggle escaped the man's throat as he reached in the bucket and pulled out another. He tossed it, and the creature landed on his neck. A low squeal rose in Elliot's throat, and he screwed his eyes shut. The prickly legs were scuttling down the side of his neck. _Oh, God…it's going to go down my shirt!_ Elliot ditched the brave act. "Please…." He choked on the words hysterically. "Please, get it off!" The flashlight clicked off and Elliot trembled as he was plunged into darkness again. The man dumped the bucket over. Elliot started screaming wildly when he felt hundreds of hairy legs crawling all over his face. The man clicked on a tape recorder, giggling again.

Captain Cragen had the entire precinct gathered in a conference room within an hour. "Alright, everyone. Quiet," he commanded. The room became silent. "Every person in this room has just been recruited as part of a task force. Elliot Stabler's life is in our hands." The three SVU detectives were standing to his right, facing the other officers. "Benson, Fin, and Munch will each be leading a group. Split up into teams. NOW."

Chairs scraped tile and feet scurried rapidly. "Munch," he continued curtly. "Your team is at the crime scene. Fin's team, contact as many precincts as you can. We need all the help available." They scrambled off as he spoke. "Olivia, start digging through the archived files on this guy "The Butcher". I want all background information, relative's names….write down what kind of toothpaste he uses if you find it; nothing gets left out. Report any and all findings to me. MOVE." The room became a frenzy of frantic activity as 100 officers took off in three different directions.

The teams worked solidly for six hours and ended up with nothing. Cragen finally had to step in at 11 pm and order everyone to go home. His three detectives didn't move; he didn't expect them to listen. "Guys," he said, over the sound of the other officers leaving. "You, too. Get some rest." Olivia looked up with fire in her eyes. "Every minute we spend sleeping is one less minute he has to stay alive," she said defiantly. Cragen looked at her angrily and went up to her desk, standing within inches of her chair. "And every careless mistake that you make at 2 am is one more to keep us from finding him," he growled, his temper flaring. He backed off immediately when he saw the tears in her eyes that she was trying desperately to keep at bay. "Rest for two hours," he said, his voice softer. "Please, you guys….we need to be one hundred percent." The three detectives looked at him angrily, but headed up the stairs.

Olivia didn't know about the others, but for her sleep was not going to come. She crept out of the crib and went to the roof. She stood looking out at the city, her breath condensing in puffs. Her thoughts were whirling through her mind….wondering where Elliot was and what was happening to him. _My best friend…my best friend in the entire world…_ The emotions she had been suppressing all day broke free in the safety of the darkness.

_Is he scared right now?_ The thought made her heart ache. The chances were pretty good that he wasn't just scared…he was most likely terrified. What little she was able to lift from a few files told her more than she wanted to know about the gruesome ways of this guy. She shuddered as she remembered some of the case photos she had seen. _Forget what the captain said_, she thought suddenly. _We need to find him NOW._ Turning on her heel, she went back towards the squad room.

The flashlight clicked on again a few hours later, and the man shone it over his captive. Elliot had screamed until his voice had given out, twisting desperately to escape the hundreds of tarantulas crawling all over him. Helpless tears flowed down his face and sobs escaped his lips as he gave up and lay trembling as the spiders continued to scavenge his body.

Despite what he had told his detectives, Don didn't wake them up until the next morning. He hated to do it, but he knew that they wouldn't be able to function efficiently without a decent amount of rest. When he came out of his office, he saw Olivia, asleep face-down on her desk. His heart went out to her. Of all of them, he knew this was hitting her the hardest. He went to her and gently shook her awake. She jumped out of sleep instantly, and he saw that her face was splotchy with dried tears. "What time is it?" she gasped, seeing the sunshine outside. He bit his lip. "It's 6," he answered. She rubbed her eyes and opened up the file lying next to her. Cragen went upstairs to wake the others.

Slowly and methodically, the man reached down and gingerly picked each spider off of Elliot and placed it back in the bucket. He could feel him shaking underneath his touch. Elliot's muscles were like Jell-o, and he had to gasp in each breath. After all of the tarantulas were removed, he turned Elliot over and untied his hands.

He was so limp with fear that he couldn't even fight as the man picked him up and carried him across the dark room. Holding the flashlight between his teeth, the man propped Elliot against the stone wall and placed his hands into two leather straps above his head. He pulled the straps taut, and Elliot could feel his wrists tingling as the circulation to his fingers began to slowly cut off.

A few stray tears were still lingering around his eyes as the man reached down and picked up a dispenser full of packing tape. Elliot realized what he was about to do and, in pure desperation, tried to bite him. With a yell of fury, the man dropped the flashlight and tape to the ground and slapped him hard across the face. "Don't do that again," he hissed, grabbing his mouth and crushing it between his fingers. Elliot winced in pain as the man let go and picked up the tape again.

He peeled it back and began placing it over Elliot's mouth, wrapping it around the back of his head and going back again. He did this three times before ripping off the end. It was so adhesive that Elliot couldn't even move his lips. When he tried, all that came out was an extremely muffled grunt. The man stepped back and admired him with satisfaction.

The three teams were back at work immediately. The process was amazingly tedious, and it seemed like they were accomplishing nothing. Cragen could sense the frustration in the air when he came out of his office to see how things were going. "Munch," he called, over the hubbub of the noisy room. "You get any prints?" He shook his head. "CSU dusted the entire truck," he called back. "Not so much as a hair was on it."

Grimacing, he turned toward Fin. "How many precincts have you been able to reach?" Fin turned around to face him, putting his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone he had to his ear. "The 3-3 and 2-7 are all we could get in Manhattan so far. Brooklyn hasn't returned our calls, and I'm on hold with the captain of the 3-5 in the Bronx," he yelled over to him, before speaking into the receiver again.

Don was scanning the room for Olivia when he saw an unfamiliar man step through the squad room doors. "Can I help you?" an officer named Medley asked, as the man walked over to the closest cluster of people. "Yeah…I have a delivery for a Captain….uh…Cragen?" the man asked, flipping through his clipboard. He had a padded envelope under one arm. "That's me," Cragen said, as he strode up to him. The man looked at him in surprise for a moment, startled. "Sign here," he said, holding the clipboard out.

He hastily scrawled a signature and the man gave him the envelope. "Thank you," the man said, quickly escaping the crowded squad room. Don ripped open the envelope and pulled out a cassette tape. His face paled when he saw a spider drawn on it with red ink. Whirling around, he charged into the middle of the room and bellowed, "Somebody get me a tape player!" The activity in the room stopped abruptly and all eyes zeroed in on him. "I said now!" he yelled, and several officers jumped. One scurried toward the supply room.

"What is it, Captain?" Olivia asked, going over to him. Munch and Fin were on her heels. Before he could answer, the officer was back. "Here!" he said, running to them. Don snatched it and put it down on the nearest desk, slipping the tape into it. The room had become dead silent and every officer stood still, each one shocked at seeing the captain's behavior.

He pressed the play button. His breath was heavy with anticipation as the room listened to the sound of the tape spinning. After a minute, blood-curdling screams erupted through the room. Olivia jumped, her eyes widening as she immediately recognized the sound of Elliot's voice. The screams rose in register after a moment. Munch was breathing rapidly, shocked to the core as he listened to the terrified screams of his friend.

Fin's face was twisted in disbelief and horror. Cragen felt winded as the screams carried on, each one sounding more desperate than the last. Finally, he couldn't bear it anymore. He quickly cut the tape off. No one moved or even seemed to breathe. It was just pure, dead silence. Olivia clutched her middle and sobbed quietly, softly gasping in breaths. As Cragen looked at her, his own tears spilled out and fell onto the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

The rest of the day brought no progress. Elliot had been missing for approximately 36 hours, and the captain was getting scared. The obsession to find him stemmed from the reality that no one could ignore: they were police officers. They _knew_ what happened to people who went missing. He sat in his office, twisting a pen between his fingers, and sighed. He decided that the team was going to have to step back and refocus.

"Olivia, John, and Fin," he called, stepping out of his office. They looked up and he gestured for them to come in.

Being tied up wasn't the worst part. Being gagged wasn't the worst part (although it was coming very close). The worst part for Elliot was the darkness. Wherever he was, it was so dark that he couldn't see anything. The man never made noise whenever he approached, and so Elliot was constantly on alert. His heart was pounding so frantically it seemed to explode from his chest. He twisted his hands and moaned as prickling shards of pain coursed through them. Hot tears slid down his face. _Please send help, God_, he prayed. _Please don't let me die like this. _

"Come in and shut the door," Cragen instructed as the three approached. They looked at each other in wonder before doing as instructed.

"What's wrong?" Olivia asked, not liking the look on his face.

The captain sighed and shook his head. The helplessness crashed down on him again, making him blink tears back. "This isn't working."

The expression on each of their faces told him that they were all thinking the same thing, but were too afraid to say it. Saying it made it become real….saying it made them face the reality that their best might not be good enough to reach Elliot in time.

His tone was frustrated, and he rubbed his eyes wearily.

"We've reached four precincts so far," Fin said, hopefully. "They said they will do everything they can from their end."

"It wouldn't matter if we had the entire state of New York out looking for Elliot," Cragen said sharply. "Not one of us has the slightest clue where he is. He could literally be anywhere on the face of this earth."

Olivia was becoming bristled at his tone. It seemed to her like the captain was deeming the search useless. She bit her lip to contain the angry remarks that she wanted to throw at him, knowing that hot tempers were the last thing any of them needed at the moment.

Munch sat back and stared at the captain, seemingly deep in thought. He spoke a minute later, his voice soft and ominous. "Everyone is tired. Nobody can really take it anymore."

She narrowed her eyes at his statement, shocked when Fin nodded his agreement. Appalled, she looked to the captain again.

"We just….we can't keep this up forever," Cragen said, his tone dismal.

"What the hell is wrong with you guys?" Olivia could no longer stand it. She leapt to her feet, turning mutinous glares on each of her colleagues. Her words were venomous with anger. "So, what….you're saying we should just _give up _on him? Is that what you're all trying to imply?" Her voice rose until she was shouting.

"This is not some random victim this time! This is _Elliot!_ He is part of our family! How the hell _could _you…?" She turned her murderous glare on Cragen. "_You_, of all people…. you're just going to sit back and let him die? Doesn't he mean anything to you?"

Tears had begun streaming down her face as she whipped around to face the other two. All three of them were so shocked that they couldn't speak. "You two….Elliot has loved the two of you like brothers. He puts us before his own flesh and blood, for Christ's sake! How the _hell_ can you just give up?"

She was sobbing now, her body shaking with anger and despair. "I'm not going to let my best friend die," she sobbed. "If I have to sell my soul to the devil himself….I am going to get him back." She flung the door open, unable to control her voice from becoming hysterical. "Why bother talking about this? Why don't you just kill him yourselves?"

She ran through the squad room, ignoring the horrified faces of the officers who had been listening to every word, and bolted through the doors.

The three men sat still. Not one of them moved, blinked, or even seemed to breathe.

His pitch-black prison was damp and incredibly chilly. Water was dripping on top of him at a steady pace, and was slowly soaking through his light jacket and t-shirt. He shivered, his teeth chattering.

The man descended quietly down the rope ladder again and clicked on the flashlight, aiming it at Elliot's face. He jumped in surprise and quickly shut his eyes against the painful invasion of light. He cracked open one eye, his breathing becoming rapid in fear.

"How are my beauties?" the man rasped, directing the beam directly into his eyes.

Elliot twisted his face away from the beam, trying to clear the spots from his eyes. The man lifted up his face, examining his throat and neck, and ran his fingers over his Adam's apple. He trembled at the contact, making the man laugh.

Olivia sat on the edge of the roof, her face buried in her arms. Her sobs floated into the air. She cried all of the tears she had been holding in since the minute she saw the kidnapper's note.

Don snapped out of it first. He got up from his chair. "Damn it, you guys. What the hell's the matter with us?" He stepped into the doorway and turned back to face them. "He's counting on us." He walked out into the squad room.

"Everybody shut up!" he bellowed, making the occupants jump. "Every single one of you, pick up a file or a phone, NOW. We've never abandoned a brother in trouble, and we're sure as hell not going to start now! No one so much as pees without somebody covering them, got it? I want a lead in the next five hours."

He strode out of the room, and the officers stood still in hesitation.

"What, did he stutter?" Munch yelled. "Get moving!"

The officers jumped into gear. Fin was shocked; he had never heard his partner yell like that before. Then again, he never dreamed the squad would ever be in a situation like this before. The urgency communicated itself clearly to the other officers, and they began working with new determination. Fin and Munch quickly picked up phones and joined them.

"Olivia."

She gasped in a breath and looked up. Her boss was kneeling beside her.

"I'm sorry, Captain," she said softly, shaking her head. "I'm sorry for going off on you guys like that."

"I'm not," he said frankly.

She looked at him with surprise.

"I'm glad you chewed us out, Olivia," he said. "Somebody needed to tell us to get our heads out of our asses." He looked at her with fatherly concern. "Do you want to come back and join us now, Detective?

She swallowed hard, tears beginning to seep out again. She shook her head and looked away from him.

"What is it, Olivia?" he asked.

"I just can't stop thinking about him," she said, her voice shaking. She started to cry again. "He's all alone and he's scared. There's no one there to tell him it's ok."

In a very un-characteristic gesture, Cragen pulled her into a tight hug. "You have to be strong, Olivia. This is killing all of us…but we can't fall apart. You're right; he is scared right now. We need to pull out all of the stops and get him out of there."

She nodded, wiping her eyes. He got to his feet and extended his hand to help her up. "Now," he said, his voice firm. "Get a hold of yourself, Benson. There's no crying in baseball."

She gave him a small smile at the familiar words and followed him back inside.

Forty hours and counting. The man had disappeared again. Elliot was so tired that he couldn't hold himself upright anymore. Every time he nodded off, the tight straps would cut into his skin, making him jump awake again. He tested the tape again, trying to pry his lips apart, but it wouldn't budge. He tried to yell out, hoping the sound would echo enough for someone to hear him, but it was too muffled to produce anything.

"What's the matter?" The raspy voice cut through the darkness, and Elliot jumped. He instantly was on the alert, trying to figure out where the man was. "Cat got your tongue?"

The man moved closer to his prize without turning on the flashlight this time. Elliot started to shake when he went silent, knowing he was somewhere he couldn't see. The breathing through his noise became loud and panicked.

The man moved closer to Elliot, enjoying the reaction he was causing. He hissed in Elliot's ear, and he made a frightened sound at the surprise, his head darting around wildly to try and locate the man in the darkness.

"Round and round and round he goes….." The man circled around his captive, reciting the children's rhyme slowly, his voice becoming sinister. Elliot closed his eyes, his entire body beginning to quiver violently. "Where he stops….." He leaned against Elliot's ear again. "Nobody knows!" He quickly shuffled around to his other side.

"Don't stop now," he hissed, drawing a knife from his pocket. He slunk towards Elliot's shaking form and got next to his face. His voice dropped to a low whisper. "The game is just beginning."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

The crib was full of sleeping officers. The room was silent, save for the barely audible moans coming from a lower bunk in the far corner. Munch tossed from side to side, the pillow clutched in his hands. "No, God please no…" The image of his friend's mutilated carcass invaded his dream….he could hear Elliot's screams for help echoing around in his ears.

"Do something!" he shouted in his dream. The other officers were only watching as Elliot was viciously slashed. John tried to run to help him, but he was paralyzed. Elliot caught his eye. "John!" he shouted. "John!"

"John." He awoke with a gasp and saw an officer staring down at him. He sucked in a breath and waited for his heart to slow. "Your hour is up," the young man said. John nodded and scrubbed wearily at his eyes. "Thanks," he mumbled. He climbed to his feet and the officer took the bed he had just vacated.

Elliot slumped against his bonds, his face sticky with the tears he hadn't been able to hold back. The man had retreated back up the ladder an hour beforehand. He could feel the blood gushing down both of his arms. The man had dug his knife into Elliot's forearms and ruthlessly yanked downward, ripping through flesh and muscle nine times on each side. His yelps of pain had only seemed to add more ammunition to his captor's obvious delight.

"Pay dirt!" Olivia whipped her head up from the file she was blearily looking at when Fin suddenly shouted, breaking the early morning silence. He strode over, holding a file over his head.

"What is it?" Cragen asked hoarsely. It was four a.m. Elliot had now been gone for two and a half days. The entire squad was moving on auto-pilot. They were beyond exhausted; their movements were robotic.

Fin held the file open for them to see. "This is a police report from 1990 completed by a Georgia state trooper," he said. "It says that a pattern was discovered during their investigation. Our guy had gotten a job with Fed-Ex in every state that he was in at the time and reported having quit shortly afterward." He looked at the Captain hopefully.

Cragen knew that this information would probably prove useless, but left no stone unturned.

"Call the Manhattan office and ask for a list of all companies in New York," he said. "Ask them if they've had any employees quit within roughly two months of being hired."

He nodded and hurried off with new determination set in his features.

The captain checked his watch. "Next group," he called out. "Go take a break."

Ten officers, including Olivia, headed wearily upstairs toward the crib as ten more were coming down.

"I'm taking five," he said to Fin. "Handle things out here."

He nodded, and Cragen went into his office and shut the door. He turned on his desk lamp and collapsed into his chair. He picked up the cassette tape in his hands and turned it over absently, his mind unwittingly conjuring up the sounds of Elliot's screams.

It had broken his heart to listen to that tape. He was usually good at keeping his emotions in check, but that had been over the top. He knew how much the three SVU detectives were being affected by this nightmare. In a matter of minutes their strong circle had completely broken, leaving them hanging and lost with one of the sides missing. But just because he was their superior didn't mean that he wasn't hurting too. Just like all of his detectives, Elliot held a special place in his heart and memories.

He thought back to when they had their very first encounter….

_36 year-old Donald Cragen packed up the last of the items on his desk and closed the cardboard box with a nervous sigh. His partner, Lennie Briscoe, stood across the desk and looked at him. "Well…I guess it's up to me to tame the troops, huh?" Briscoe joked weakly, trying his best to mask his sadness. He was elated for his partner- he had been trying for a Captain's position for the last 8 years. They knew the day would come when they would be separated-it's inevitable for every cop._

"_Yep," Don said, his voice also weak. "You'll have your hands full with this new batch of rookies coming up. Call me if you ever need someone to help you yell at them, will ya?" He gave his best smile, hoping he wouldn't embarrass himself by crying everywhere._

"_Sure." An awkward silence passed between the two seasoned veterans before Lennie finally broke it. "Aw, hell," he said brashly. "It's not like you're going off to war or something. Stop getting wimpy on me, Cragen!" _

_Don smiled at his partner's famous gruffness, knowing it was his way of keeping his emotions in check. "Good luck, Lennie," he said softly, sticking out his hand. Briscoe stared at him before jerking him into a quick hug. "No matter who comes next, you're my partner," Briscoe said. "Remember that." Don nodded. _

_They broke apart and he took one last look at the 35th precinct before heading out the doors._

_At the 16th precinct in Manhattan, the detectives of the Special Victims Unit were nervously awaiting the arrival of their new captain. 27-year old detective Elliot Stabler walked in the squad room and immediately noticed the unusual quiet. He looked around with disbelief and gave a dry laugh as he went to his locker. "Who died?" he joked to his partner as he went and sat down across from him at their desk. Greg Rosetti shot him a dark look._

"_Don't be a smart-ass, Stabler," he said. "This could very well be the worst day of our careers."_

_Elliot looked at him incredulously. "Oh, come on!" he said. "What the hell is everyone so uptight about? So we're getting a new captain…big deal!" He stood up and addressed the others in the room. "Come on, you guys," he said. "Who cares about this new guy? **We **own this unit…we're the life and blood of this precinct. What do you think is going to happen? It's not like he can fire all of us, he'd have no command! Bring on this Joe Schmoe…we'll show him who's **really **in charge here."_

_All of his colleagues were suddenly standing ramrod straight and had their eyes glued to a point behind him. Rosetti gave him a "You're-dead-meat" look as he stood up. Elliot turned around slowly. A middle-aged man holding a cardboard box was standing in the doorway staring coldly at him. He grimaced. 'Oh, shit', he thought. _

_The man walked slowly through the squad room, his shoes clicking loudly in the dead quiet, and right up to Elliot. He set the box down on Elliot's desk and stood toe-to-toe with the detective._

"_The name's Don," he said, his voice quietly dangerous. "Not Joe, and the last name is Cragen." He eyed him. "You would be?" _

_Elliot swallowed, feeling a blush creeping up his neck. "Uh..." he stammered. "Stabler. Uh, Elliot Stabler…sir." _

_Don narrowed his eyes at him. "Well, **Detective Stabler**...I didn't quite hear all of that. Would you care to repeat it for me?" His eyes glinted in anger. _

"_Uh…yes, sir," he said. "I mean- no, sir. Sorry, sir."_

_Cragen glared icily at him before stepping around to his office. Elliot let out a huge breath, his face beet-red. He sat down quietly at his desk as the other officers looked at him in shock._

Don chuckled. First impressions hadn't been kind. He had marked Stabler on his "shit list" from that very moment. But things slowly got better after their rocky start. Elliot was a rookie, but his solve record put the veteran detectives to shame. He was very passionate about his job, and was slowly moving up the ranks.

A case had gone horribly wrong a few years after he had taken command, and Don found himself being accused of being "dirty" by the Morris Commission. He had thought for a while that he was going to lose his job. He didn't, but after everything was cleared he lost his squad. More than half of the precinct put in requests to quit or be transferred, snubbing him as untrustworthy and slimy.

He had been totally blown away when Elliot stood up one day in the squad room and verbally slammed them, calling them yellow and saying they weren't fit to wear the badge. He proclaimed that would stand with the captain even if the entire squad transferred out.

Cragen was shocked that, of all people, Elliot Stabler would choose to stick with him. But he was true to his word; for a while there were only three detectives that showed up for work, and he was one of them. His appreciation for the detective grew to astounding levels, and he found himself warming to him. After another month, they had formed a friendship.

As the squad replenished, their relationship stood strong. Don relied on Elliot's intuition and skills to get through the first few months of tough cases. When Kathleen was born, Elliot had asked him to be her godfather. It touched him in a way that he couldn't describe. He could remember a time when Elliot's father had come down to the precinct. He was smarting from his recent termination, and was appalled that his son was still on the force.

_When Cragen came into the squad room, he could hear Jack Stabler's shouts before he opened the doors. He was hurling insults and snide comments at Elliot, telling him how he was an idiot to be in a job that he didn't have any business being in. He cut him down shamelessly, and all the while Elliot just stood there and didn't say a word._

_Don was infuriated. He got up in Jack's face, telling him he had no business harassing one of his detectives, and that if he said one more word Don would personally see to it that he wouldn't be able to speak for a long time. _

"_Are you threatening me?" Jack had asked in anger. Cragen had looked at him like a snake about to strike. _

"_Hell yes," he had snapped. "Get your ass out of my precinct before I escort you myself." His face twisted in anger, Jack had left._

_Cragen turned around to face Elliot, only to find he had disappeared. One of the other detectives pointed upstairs, which is where he found him. He was ruthlessly punching a punching bag, breathing hard in anger. From where he stood, the captain swore he had seen tears in his eyes. _

"_He's wrong, you know," Don said casually, leaning against the doorway. _

"_I don't give a damn what he says," he gasped, out of breath and still punching. "Fuck him. Fuck him!" A rapid series of angry punches followed his outburst._

_Cragen sensed his presence was intrusive, and backed off. _

"_I know you don't," he said softly, turning to leave. "That's what makes you a good cop, and an even better man. You don't put up with bullshit." With that, he started towards the stairs._

"_Hey." Elliot was suddenly next to him with surprising speed and gripping his arm. Don looked at him in surprise. The young man looked at him steadily with an intense gaze that would later become his trademark. "Thank you, Captain." Don smiled and squeezed his shoulder before going back downstairs._

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts, and the captain shook his head to clear the fuzzy images. Fin poked his head in.

"I got a potential lead at the Fed-Ex on 12th and 43rd," he said. "Munch and I are going to check it out."

The captain nodded, and he shut the door. He sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead tiredly. Elliot Stabler had wormed his way into his heart, and he couldn't have loved him more than if he was his own son. "Don't give up, son," he whispered into the air. "We'll find you."

The man ascended down into the darkness two hours later to find his captive shaking violently. Elliot didn't know if it was from fear or from cold, because he was getting equal amounts of both, but the bottom line was his body couldn't take much more. He was dehydrated from almost three days without any liquid, and the lack of food was sapping his strength as well.

When the man clicked his flashlight beam on him, Elliot didn't even have the strength left in his reflexes to jump from the surprise. Helplessness washed over him as the man drew out his knife again, and he gave in to it. Bowing his head, he began to cry in despair. He no longer wished for rescue. All he wanted to do now was die as quickly as possible.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

The man got up in Elliot's face and paused. "Why are you crying?" he asked raspily. He reached out to touch his face and Elliot angrily wrenched his head away, wishing with all his might that he could spit on him. "Aren't you having fun with me?" He grabbed his face roughly, forcing him to still. "I'm sure having fun with you, Elliot."

Elliot gasped involuntarily. This was the first time the man had addressed him using his name. _He knows me…_ he thought in a panic. _How does he know me? Do I know him?_ The man looked into his face, a predatory smile gracing his features. He seemed to read his thoughts. "Or do you prefer to be called Detective?"

His eyes widened in shock. His captor dug into the pocket of his poncho and pulled out a handful of photographs, holding them up. He still had a grip on Elliot's face, and pulled his chin down to look at them. _Oh God..._ A few of the pictures were close-ups of his face. Some showed him inside the squad room, sitting at his desk or talking to Olivia.

He choked when he saw ones of himself sleeping in his apartment. _I knew I felt someone watching me!_ he thought in a daze. The man smiled and pulled the pictures away, releasing his face. "I waited for you," he said. Elliot became uneasy when he heard a seductive note in his voice. "I waited such a long…long time to find the perfect one." His hand began to caress his cheek, and Elliot moaned, wriggling around to avoid the unwelcome touch.

The man's face hardened and he slapped him again. Then he reached out and grabbed hold of the tape attached to the back of Elliot's neck and yanked. He yelled in pain when he quickly tore it away, his mouth burning like fire. He gulped in a breath, shocked that the man had actually removed it.

Quick as a flash, he was grabbing Elliot's already sore mouth and squeezing hard. "We're going to make a phone call," he growled in his face. "If you don't cooperate I will slit your throat before you have a chance to take your next breath." He felt his captive trembling and released his mouth, holding the knife to his throat to make his point clear. Then he pulled Elliot's cell phone out of his pocket and pressed a button.

A ringing phone startled the sleepy officers out of sleep. They had all been allowed to rest for two hours by the captain. Some where so tired that they didn't even have the energy to walk up the stairs; they had found a chair or a spot on the floor and dropped heavily. Olivia was face-down at her desk with her head on her arm. She jumped at the noisy intrusion and looked around blearily.

Since she was closest to the phone, she grabbed it. "Benson," she murmured sleepily. There was silence on the line. She groaned and sat up, rubbing her face. "Benson," she repeated, irritated. "Olivia." Her heart leaped to her throat and she thought she was going to puke. "ELLIOT?" she cried. She jumped up so fast that she knocked her chair over. The officers around her jumped to attention at her outburst. Munch ran to get the captain. Her tears came crashing out before she could control them. "Elliot," she choked out, struggling to speak around them. "Oh my god."

"Liv…" As soon as Elliot heard her voice, he lost his composure. He broke down into sobs, his body heaving. She heard him crying and felt a like a knife was slicing her heart. Cragen came bolting out of his office with a speaker. He had been praying that they would get some communication since the first day. He hooked it up quickly to the handset and motioned to her with his hand.

She understood what he was asking and forced herself to get control. "Elliot, where are you?" she asked urgently. "Where are you?"

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I-I don't know," he sobbed. "It's dark…God, please come get me, Olivia. Please!" His voice had risen to a hysterical level.

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut too, tears streaming. The captain's shoulders slumped in defeat. "We will," she managed. "We're coming, I promise."

"Please…" He choked on his sobs. "I'm scared." The rest of his words were cut off by his cries.

She shook with pent-up sobs. "I know, baby," she said, through her tears. "I know you are. We're coming for you, sweetheart. I promise. I promise."

The others were attempting to get a trace. "Keep him on," Munch hissed.

"Elliot," she said. Terror filled her when she heard silence on the other end. "Elliot," she continued, her voice rising. "Stay with me; you have to-"

The dial tone was her only reply.

**Ha ha ha…I am so evil aren't I? Ducks flaming sticks and heavy objects Seriously, I was making this chapter longer but I have an 8 am class tomorrow. I promise on my next paycheck that there will be more tomorrow. God bless all of you who are still with me….I'm not getting as many reviews…are you still out there?**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

"Olivia?" Elliot asked hysterically. _Please be there!_ "Olivia?" The man snatched the phone away and slammed it shut.

"Well…that was fun, huh?" he asked casually.

Elliot watched with dread as he pulled out the roll of tape again and reapplied it tightly over his mouth. _Just stay calm, _Elliot told himself. _They'll be getting a trace…they'll probably be here in an hour. _He kept repeated the mantra to himself, trying to relax the tight feeling of apprehension that was forming in his throat.

"Damn it!" Olivia dropped the phone and whirled around to face the captain. "Tell me you got a trace," she ordered.

Cragen looked at her and bit his lip, slowly shaking his head. "He used Elliot's cell phone," he said. "All it shows us is the number that the call came from."

She dropped heavily into the nearest chair and covered her face with her hands, giving in to the desperate tears. The others in the room were looking at the floor in shock and grief over what had just happened.

The man reached up and tugged at the leather straps binding Elliot's wrists to make sure they were still tight. Nodding in approval, he stepped around to his captive's side and began probing his arm with his fingers.

Elliot watched him helplessly, fearing what the man could possibly have planned next for him. He felt his fingers graze his upper arm, and rested there. "Here it is," he crooned out.

The man came back to around to face him. He smiled and cocked his head, lightly gripping Elliot's chin. "I'm afraid I don't have any anesthesia," he said, his tone almost sympathetic. "So make sure you bite down really hard on that gag."

His eyes widened in disbelief and pure terror at the man's words. When he pulled out the knife, he began making frantic, pleading whimpers. The man's face was set in concentration, ignoring him completely as he went to his side again. Elliot felt a slight prick on his arm. _ Oh God…please no, please! _ He desperately cried out as loud as he could, praying that somebody was listening.

Slowly and methodically, the man plunged the knife into Elliot's arm and began sawing in a pattern. His captive's painful screams echoed around the walls as the blood began spattering the floor.

"That's it," Cragen said, voice husky with emotion. He stalked into his office and slammed the door. Going to his desk, he picked up the phone and dialed a number. As soon as it was answered, he snapped, "Get me Mayor Carlucci."

The officers were all staring at Olivia, hunched over at her desk.

"Alright, guys," Munch said softly. "Get back to work." As they moved away, he gestured to Fin with a jerk of his head to follow. He nodded silently, and John carefully approached Olivia.

"Olivia," he said quietly, touching her arm. She looked up slowly and shook her head.

"I can't do this anymore," she whispered painfully. "He's going to die, John. He's going to die."

Munch grimaced and cast his eyes to the floor, trying to control his own tears. "We _can't_ give up now," he said shakily. "You told us yourself- you'll do anything to get him back. Please don't give up now, Olivia."

She swallowed, gasping in a breath. Munch was as close to crying as she had ever seen him. She realized then that she was being totally selfish. Elliot was her partner….but he was also a good friend to Munch and Fin. They were as upset as she was, but they had to hold everything together because she kept falling apart.

She wiped her eyes and rubbed a hand over her face, getting to her feet. "I'm sorry, John," she said. "You're right. We're a team; we stick together until the end."

He gave her a half-hearted smile. "That's the spirit, Benson," he said. "Let's do this."

The captain came charging out of his office just then with all the grace of a bull elephant. "Listen up," he bellowed. Activity stopped immediately. "In one hour, the entire New York Police Department will be present for an emergency press conference with the city. All of you are to attend in uniform, NO EXCEPTIONS."

Don was at his wit's end. He no longer had a battle plan; now he was relying on pure animal desperation.

The man carefully peeled away the large portion of skin that he had just spent the last ten minutes meticulously carving out. Elliot was moaning and gasping in painful breaths. He placed it into a plastic bag and walked back to the ladder, climbing up. As soon as he was out of sight, Elliot burst into hysterical sobs.

He twisted his body around, trying to see the wound. He was shaking from the blinding pain. It was useless; he was unable to maneuver himself to look. But judging from the amount of blood that he saw on the floor and could feel drenching his right arm, he didn't think he really wanted to see it.

Never in his entire life had he felt the amount of physical pain than he did at that moment. It felt like his entire arm had just been sawed off. _Please God…why won't this end?_ He knew that suicide was a sin….but given the chance, he would gladly end his own life if it meant an escape from this hell.

He heard the clang of metal signaling his captor's return, and saw the flashlight beam coming down. He sucked in his sobs and gulped hard. The man came up to him and shined the light in his face, smiling in satisfaction at the distressed appearance.

Elliot's eyes suddenly zoomed in on what the man held in his hands: a bag of salt. He suddenly felt extremely dizzy, and his stomach lurched. Vomit rose in his throat, but was unable to escape because of the gag. He gurgled as he was forced to swallow it back down.

With a sadistic smile on his face, the man poured a handful of salt into his palm. Before Elliot could brace himself, he shoved it against his bloody shoulder. The ear-splitting howl pierced the air and bounced around the man's head as he dissolved into gleeful giggles.

Captain Cragen stood on the steps of City Hall and listened as Mayor Carlucci addressed the television camera in front of them. The entire New York Police Department stood behind him, in full uniform. His detectives were next to him. "…Captain of the 16th precinct, Donald Cragen."

The mayor handed him the microphone, and Don stared solemnly into the camera.

"We have recently been informed that one of our detectives is being held by the notorious serial killer known as 'The Butcher'," he said, gripping the microphone tightly to stop the tremble in his hands.

He paused, taking a breath as he contemplated his next words.

"This is a desperate plea to the citizens of New York," he continued. "We are asking for anyone with any information on this man or his whereabouts to contact your nearest police precinct. All calls will be anonymous." He sighed tiredly and his voice began to shake despite his best efforts to control it.

"We need your help. Without it, an innocent man's life will be stolen. Please help us save our brother." He handed the microphone back to the mayor, who made a few remarks before the camera clicked off.

The camera man set the equipment down, and the crowd gathered around the bottom of the steps dispersed.

"Excuse me, Captain?"

A hand gripped his arm. Don turned around to face a middle-aged woman wearing a red peacoat. Her face was soft and full of compassion. "Yes, ma'am?

"I would just like you to know that I am praying for your detective," she said. "Along with the entire Manhattan Episcopal Church. May God bless his safe return."

Cragen looked at her and summoned up the strength to give her a small smile. "Thank you," he said, wholeheartedly. "Thank you very much, ma'am."

She nodded with a smile and walked away. He stared after her, taken aback slightly by her words. Olivia's voice caught his attention as she came up next to him.

"What do we do now?" she asked softly.

He turned to her with an expression of tired despair and was silent for a minute. Finally, he said, "We pray."

After five days of no sleep or nourishment, Elliot began to show signs of slight insanity. He nodded off a few times only to jerk awake when he felt a creeping sensation all over his body. His mind tricked him into seeing hundreds of centipedes on and around him, swarming him.

The man stood in the darkness, watching as his captive shrieked and thrashed in terror. He rubbed his hands together gleefully. None of the others had held out for so long. This one was tough, but worth the wait. It wouldn't be long now. A few more hours, a day at most, and his prize would be ready.

Captain Cragen ordered every single officer in his squad to go home and get a full night's rest. The fact that not one of them protested told him they were at the end of their rope. He pulled the cot out from the corner of his office and stretched out.

Sleep was far from his mind. He realized with a heavy heart that he was going to have to start preparing his detective's for Elliot's death. There was nothing else he could do now. Tears dripped down his cheeks. _I'm so sorry, Elliot_, he thought in agony. _Please forgive me. Please forgive me._

A man's voice cut through the bleak darkness, and Elliot jumped with shock as he suddenly recognized it.

"We need your help. Without it, an innocent man's life will be stolen. Please help us save our brother."

_They're giving up!_ Elliot's stomach dropped with shock. He knew that the department never, ever made media appeals to the public unless they were completely helpless to solve a case. It had only happened twice in all of his years on the force, and both cases ended up with dead victims. He shook as sobs escaped. _They're giving up!_

The flashlight suddenly appeared, and the man stood next to him. He could hear classical music drifting down. The man looked at him with a soft expression. "Don't worry," he said. "I won't let anyone take you away from me."

The sudden sound of voices woke the captain from his sleep. He realized it was morning and sat up with a groan. Six days. Six days and they still had absolutely no way to rescue their friend. He was surprised to open his office door and find all 100 officers there. He was sure they would be ready to give up, as he was.

A sudden scream sounded, and Cragen recognized Olivia's voice. Munch and Fin were bolting up the stairs, and the others quickly followed them. Fin burst through the doors of the women's locker room. "Liv, what's wrong?" he asked breathlessly.

Munch skidded to a stop behind him, and they were both sickened by the sight before them. Cragen pushed through the crowd of officers and came up behind them.

"What in the-" He stopped short, his heart in his throat, and murmured, "Sweet Jesus."

Olivia's locker door was hanging open. Nailed to it was a large chunk of flesh with a familiar Marine tattoo embedded in it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Everyone was standing still in utter horror until Fin suddenly slammed his hand against the nearest locker, making them jump.

"Goddammit!" he yelled. He was shaking with rage. "What the hell is this guy _waiting_ for? What does he want from us?"

He stalked over to the window. "Are you still here, mother fucker?" he screamed out. "What are you waiting for, huh?"

"Detective Tutuola!" the captain snapped angrily.

The officers were watching in shock. Fin was very easygoing, despite his rugged appearance, and no one had ever seen him snap like that.

He blew out an angry breath and pushed past his partner and the captain. The other officers quickly got out of the way as he pounded down the stairs and out the squad room doors.

The captain looked at the other two. Olivia was almost catatonic, and Munch was teary-eyed. Cragen sighed and shut his eyes, shaking his head in defeat. His team was coming apart at the seams.

The man's eyes shone in delight as he finished the final game piece- typing up Elliot's obituary. He printed it out and stuck it in a glossy page protector, adding it the full book. A warm feeling spread through him as he paged through it, remembering each of his previous players. Setting the book aside, he picked up his flashlight. It was time to prepare his prize.

A phone ringing downstairs brought everyone back to attention as they were reminded of what they were doing. Officers scurried down towards the bull pen, leaving Olivia, Munch, and the captain. Olivia sniffled and turned her head away from her colleagues. Munch cleared his throat. "I'm going to go find my partner," he said softly.

The captain glanced at him as he brushed past him. He looked steadfastly at Olivia for a moment before turning and following, softly closing the door behind him. She slammed the locker door shut as hard as she could and collapsed to the floor in tears.

Olivia rejoined the others ten minutes later. Munch and Fin entered the room shortly after, and no one spoke to each other as they began answering the outpouring of phone calls from local precincts.

When Elliot heard the time and temperature from the radio above him, he started crying in bitter defeat. He had been held captive for an entire week, and now his squad was leaving him to die. He hung his head. It was his own fault. He had been a royal pain in the ass ever since he and Kathy had separated. Olivia was tired of putting up with it.

He suddenly wished that he could tell her how sorry he was and how much he loved her. She was the best friend he had ever had in his entire life, and had a special place in his heart. _Why didn't I ever tell her?_ he thought. _Seven years of being partners and I never once told her just how much she means to me._ He prayed that she wouldn't grieve for his death. He didn't deserve it.

Olivia's mind was wandering as she automatically answered call after call. She and Elliot were so close that it was like they were one person. He knew every intimate detail about her…they were practically married, their bond was so tight. She realized that in all the time she had worked with him, she had never once told him how special he was to her.

He was her breath of fresh air, her reason for going to work each morning. His beautiful smile and breathtaking handsomeness had captivated her when they had first met. She was smitten with him in the beginning, but it soon developed into a deeper feeling. Elliot had become her best friend, her other half, and she took for granted the love she felt bursting inside for him when they were together.

_Why didn't I ever tell him? _she thought. _Seven years of being partners and I never once told him just how much he means to me._ It hurt to think that she might never get the chance.

The team answered countless anonymous calls from concerned citizens, each one claiming they knew about their guy. Cragen had warned them not to get their hopes up; they had no way of proving what was really credible. He had simply advised them to go with their gut instincts and hope for the best.

"Uh-huh….um, no sir. We are not offering a reward," Munch said into his phone, trying to reign in his temper. He couldn't count the number of calls they had received from moochers seeking a cash reward.

"You say you've seen the detective?" Cragen spoke into another phone. "Could you describe him to me, ma'am?"

He paused and scrunched his face in anger. "I'm sorry," he said shortly. "None of my detectives hold up grocery stores. Goodbye." He slammed the phone down.

"No, our perp does not work in a meat factory," Fin snapped in annoyance into a receiver. "That's very funny, you asshole."

"Thank you, sir," Olivia said tiredly, tuning out the insistent ranting of one overly eager man. "We…yes, sir, we'll be looking into it. Thank you." She hung up the phone with a sigh.

As the officers were crowded around the phones, a man walked nervously into the squad room. He was white, average height, and wore glasses. He stood to the side, chewing his lip, and was unnoticed for several minutes. An officer heading back from the restroom caught sight of him.

"Can I help you, sir?" he asked.

The man jumped, visibly apprehensive. "Um, yes," he stammered. "Yes…Is this were I can report about the missing detective?"

"Yes, it is," the man said warily. "What is your name, sir?"

"My name is Andrew Hopkins," he replied. "Um…I work for Fed-Ex. An officer was at my store a few days ago…my employees told me he worked here."

The officer looked at him in scrutiny for a minute, before turning to the side.

"Fin!" he called.

Fin looked up and he waved him over. "This is Detective Tutuola," the officer said to the man. "Fin, this man works for Fed-Ex…he says he has information."

Fin looked hopeful. "Thanks," he said, dismissing the officer, and turned to the man. "Would you like to sit down?"

The man shook his head quickly. "No, no," he said. "My-my name is Andrew Hopkins. Um….I think I know the man you are looking for. He used to work for me."

"Ok," Fin said, trying to remain objective. "What can you tell me?"

"He didn't report to work when he was scheduled, and hasn't been seen by any of my employees for a week," he said. "I received a letter in the mail yesterday informing me that he is quitting…..but he still has one of my trucks."

The man sensed that the detective in front of him was getting ready to tell him to get lost, and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. "I've heard from the police that this guy leaves notes when he kidnaps his victims written in red ink," he said. He held out the paper to Fin. "This is the letter of resignation he sent to me."

When Fin looked at it, he felt the blood rush from his face. It was written in the _exact_ handwriting and format as the note they had found in Elliot's truck.

"Holy mother of God," he breathed. He turned around and yelled loudly, "Captain! I think you need to see this!"

Cragen came over quickly, alerted by his tone. Olivia followed.

His eyes widened when he saw the note, and turned to face Hopkins.

He spoke before Cragen could say anything. "Don't waste time that your detective needs, Captain," he said quickly. "I know where this man is."


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

"He listed his home address on the application when I hired him," Hopkins said. He handed the captain another paper. "But he was telling another employee about this cabin he has up in Buffalo the day before he disappeared."

The other officers were hovering around anxiously, waiting for a cue from their captain.

Cragen took command immediately. "Split up," he ordered. "Half of you head for the home, the other half to Buffalo." When they didn't move right away, he turned toward them and bellowed, "NOW, you guys! Get moving!"

Olivia was out the door before he finished speaking.

Elliot stood still, crying softly, as the man read him the obituary he had made. When he finished, the man smiled. "Don't worry about a funeral," he said sweetly. "I'll make sure to let your precinct know where your body is. I'm sure they'll want to find all of you." He shone his light in Elliot's face and watched him sob.

"It's time, Elliot," he said, sounding almost contrite. "Do you want me to kill you before I chop you up? I'd recommend it." Elliot couldn't stop the sobs that heaved his body. The man clicked off the light. "I'll let you decide," he said. "Let me go get my supplies." He headed up the ladder.

Fin screeched to a halt beside the half-dozen other squad cars surrounding the man's home. They quickly flanked the building. "NYPD!" the one next to the door yelled. "Come out with your hands up!" He got drew his gun and waited tensely beside the door frame with the others. "Police, open the door!" the man shouted again. Nothing.

The officer nodded, and Fin moved back as they slammed through the door and swarmed inside. "Police!" officers shouted, scouring the kitchen area. Others moved into side rooms.

"Elliot!" he yelled, desperately. Shouts of "Clear!" from the other officers made his heart sink.

"Check the back!" Munch yelled, running through the house quickly. Officers scurried outside.

Olivia sat in the passenger seat of the car, holding her breath as the captain lead a team of cars through the streets of Buffalo. _Please, please_…..she prayed silently

Team one, reporting," came an officer's voice through the radio. Cragen keyed his mike.

"Go ahead, team one," he said.

"Nothing on the north side of town, sir," the officer said. "We're heading toward the expressway now."

Cragen bit his lip. "Copy that, team one," he said.

He replaced the mike and continued driving silently. After a minute, he glanced over at Olivia. She was sitting on the edge of the seat, nervously biting her thumbnail. He debated saying something to reassure her, but thought better of it.

Ten fruitless minutes of searching later, another officer's voice blared into the radio.

"Team three reporting….there's an abandoned Fed-Ex truck three miles west of Interstate 6, next to a forest."

Olivia looked at the captain with wild eyes, jumping to attention.

"Copy that, team three," Cragen said quickly. He keyed another frequency as he gunned the accelerator. "All units report three miles west of Interstate 6. Repeat, all units report west of Interstate 6."

"Guys!" Munch burst out of the house and sprinted toward the cars. "Interstate 6!" he yelled at the officers. "Everyone head to Interstate 6!" Fin barely had time to jump in the car before his partner zoomed toward the highway. The other officers sped behind them.

Cars squealed haphazardly to stop and officers jumped out to surround the Fed-Ex truck. A minute of searching confirmed the vehicle empty.

Cragen looked around the area, biting his lip. "The guy said the cabin is secluded," he said. "Search the woods."

When the other teams of officers arrived, they saw the abandoned squad cars and the Fed-Ex truck.

"Captain, we're here," Munch said into his radio.

"Munch, search the woods," Cragen answered as he treaded carefully through the woods. "We're about a half-mile in."

Everyone met up about five minutes later, and they quietly searched the thicket of trees. All was quiet for about ten minutes, until Olivia hissed, "Cabin ahead!" They looked to the right to see a wooded cabin.

"All right," Cragen said, coming to a stop. "Everyone, turn down your radios. Don't make any noise."

The police officers crept through the woods and up to the cabin. A few hand signals indicated for them to surround all the exits. Cragen crept up the stairs and stood next to the door, listening for movement inside. He looked at the officers around him and silently asked if they were ready. Nods confirmed, and he shouted, "POLICE!" before busting through the flimsy wood.

The man pulled his small sack out from the drawer and dumped the contents on the table in front of him. Whistling, he began shining each of his knives until they gleamed.

Olivia's heart pounded in her ears as she swept her gun from side to side, side-stepping quietly from room to room. With each turn, she braced herself to find Elliot or the man. When she reached the end of the hall, she wanted to cry. _This can't be it! He has to be here somewhere! _

She stood in the empty bedroom, her heart plummeting to her feet. They were too late. How was she going to live without Elliot? She quickly covered her mouth to silence the sob that suddenly escaped. "Search the surrounding area," she heard Cragen say. "I'm not giving up until I find a body."

Twilight was descending as the officers searched through the woods once again. The hopelessness was almost tangible. As he searched, Cragen wondered if he would carry out his promise. _What if we do find his body?_ He pulled out his flashlight as it became harder to see in front of him.

Olivia shone her flashlight in front of her, gingerly putting one foot in front of the other. She couldn't hear the others close to her, but their voices drifted from the distance. A sudden rustling made her whip around fast, and she suddenly fell and dropped her flashlight.

Her heart leaped in her throat as a squirrel darted out from under a pile of leaves. She scoffed at her own foolishness and reached for her flashlight, getting to her feet. A sudden pain in her elbow made her twist to view the spot, and she winced when she saw blood. _Great,_ she thought sourly. She dusted herself off. _What the hell did I trip over?_

Brushing aside the leaves, she suddenly hit wood. Surprised, she kept pushing brush aside, her eyes widening as she uncovered a door. _It's a cellar_! She scraped the wood frantically, trying to find the opening. When she found it, she pried the heavy door up. Grabbing her flashlight, she carefully descended the stairs.

"Captain," she said softly into her radio.

Cragen jerked the radio from his hip. "Go ahead, Olivia."

She shined the beam ahead of her carefully as she spoke. "I found a cellar," she said. "I'm checking it out."

The captain quickly radioed the others and took off in her direction.

The man stealthily ascended the rope ladder, his bag of tools over his shoulder.

"Guess who…" he droned, his eyes shining.

He flicked the flashlight on. Elliot began whimpering and struggling wildly. "Now, now," he rasped, grinning. He flicked the light off, then on again. "Better keep still…it hurts more if you struggle."

He stepped closer, flashing Elliot with the light again before flicking it off. His lips curled into a delightful smile as he kept flicking the flashlight on and off. Each time he did, the man would come a little closer. He drew out his knife as he flipped the light off again. "Time to play…." he crooned.

When he flicked the light on again, Olivia was standing in his beam with a look of hatred on her face.

"Game over," she growled, and ejected three bullets into the man's chest.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

She stood still, shaking, as the flashlight beam fell away and the man crashed to the floor. She pointed the gun toward the man and stepped closer, tightening her finger on the trigger. Her breath was coming loud and angry through her nose as she clenched her jaw.

The sound of whimpering from behind her cut through her angry haze. She whirled around.

"Elliot!" she cried, running up to him. Tears flowed from her eyes as she threw her arms around his middle and squeezed harder than she ever had in her entire life. "Elliot," she sobbed. "Oh, thank God. Thank God."

He whimpered again, and she suddenly came to her senses. "Oh, God," she said, grabbing the flashlight. "Hold on, sweetie. Hold on." She traced her hands over the tape, her fingers shaking. She peeled it away as gently as she could, wincing as it stuck to his skin.

She smoothed her hands over his mouth gently, moving up to stroke his tear-stained face.

"Olivia," he sobbed hysterically.

"It's ok, baby," she gasped. She shined the flashlight up to his wrists and saw the straps. "I'm going to get you out of here."

Olivia stretched on her tiptoes, but was unable to reach his wrists. Huffing in frustration, she realized that she was going to need help. Abandoning his wrists, she picked up her radio.

"Captain," she said. It crackled, the static indicating no frequency. _Damn it!_ She stepped over in front of her partner. "I'm going to go get some help."

Terror overtook his face. "No!" he cried, his body shaking. He started to cry hard. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me!"

Her heart shattered. She quickly shot forward and hugged him. "I'll be right back, Elliot," she sobbed, hating herself. He was shaking. "I promise; I'll be right back."

The panic in his eyes made her flinch. "Don't go," he gasped weakly. "Please don't leave me!" Shaking with sobs, she cupped his face and kissed his lips before forcing herself to turn around and go back up the ladder.

Olivia sprinted toward the cellar door as if the devil was after her.

Cragen and the others were trying to locate where she was. A sudden bang had them reaching for their guns. Olivia appeared from under the ground.

"Someone get down here now!" she screamed.

Fin was dialing for a bus the minute she spoke. Cragen and Munch took off toward her voice, leaving the other officers to find their own way. "Hurry, hurry!" she cried, when they reached her. They jumped down and followed her through the dark, wet drain.

Halfway to the sewer, she heard Elliot screaming. Eyes wide, she picked up the pace. Forgoing the ladder, she leaped to the ground. Fury filled her when she saw that the man had somehow gotten up and was coming at her partner with the knife.

With a yell, she rushed the man, tackling him to the ground. As soon as he was down, her hands were over his throat in a crushing grip.

"Olivia!" Cragen yelled, running to her. He got behind her and had to pull her away from the man.

Fin leaped down to join them, and together he and Munch snapped handcuffs on the wounded man harder than necessary.

"Elliot," Cragen breathed, going to him.

Munch jumped up and hurried over to assist the captain. They tugged on the leather straps, but were unable to loosen them.

"Fin, the knife," Munch said.

He picked up the man's knife and tossed it to Olivia, who handed it to Munch. Putting his hand between Elliot's skin and the strap, he sawed through it. Going around, he quickly did the same to the other one.

Elliot whimpered as he collapsed weakly. The three men jumped to catch him and lowered him gently to the ground as Olivia watched in horror.

Taking his flashlight out, the captain directed it over his detective.

"Dear God," he breathed, seeing his wounds. The others looked sickened.

The sound of a helicopter above them caught their attention, and Cragen looked up. "Go; tell them we need help getting him out."

Munch and Fin took off, but Olivia didn't move. She stood stock-still, staring at Elliot with her hand over her mouth in horror. _We should have looked harder_, she thought. Tears coursed down her face. _We could have saved him from this hell!_

The captain heard Elliot moan weakly and quickly returned his attention to him. Shining the light down on him, he saw blue eyes looking at him, wide with terror. He bent down and wrapped his arms around him, his heart quickening when he felt his freezing skin. "It's going to be alright, Elliot," he murmured, squeezing tight. "We're here. Everything's alright now."

Tears slowly slipped from the captain's own cheeks as he held the man he loved like a son. _Please let us help him, God,_ he prayed silently. _He's been through enough._ He slipped his arms free of his coat and wrapped it around Elliot as the other two came back, accompanied by three paramedics.

"Get ready to lift on my count," one of them said.

Olivia broke free from her paralysis and rushed to help as they all lifted him as gently as possible and prepared to get out of there.

Elliot was half-conscious as the team boarded him into the helicopter. "We'll be taking him to Mercy General," a paramedic told the detectives.

Cragen nodded. "We'll meet you there."

The words cut through Elliot's foggy state. He cried out and struggled wildly, catching them off guard.

"Don't leave me!" he cried weakly. "Olivia…please don't leave me, Liv."

His words were like a jackhammer through her heart, and she threw caution to the wind as she ran up to the helicopter and prepared to get inside.

"Hey!" one of the medics cried. "You can't go in there; there isn't enough room!"

She turned to him, and the man visibly flinched at the ferociousness in her eyes.

"Try to stop me and I'll hand you a body part," she growled at him.

The young paramedic backed off without a word, and she pulled herself inside.

"Elliot," she said, coming next to him. He was struggling with the men trying to strap him to the stretcher. He jerked his head towards her voice and reached for her, clutching her with all his might.

"Let me take care of this, alright?" she asked the medics softly. "Just get us to the hospital."

The men nodded sympathetically and hopped out, shutting the door. They boarded the front of the chopper, and the pilot signaled that they were ready. A minute later, they were airborne.

Olivia settled into one of the cushioned seats attached to the wall of the helicopter and pulled Elliot into her arms. He flung his arms around her neck and pressed himself so close to her that it was almost suffocating. She hugged him tight, feeling his tears soaking her neck.

"It's ok, baby," she soothed softly, rubbing his back. "I've got you. I've got you."

"Stay," she heard him say tearfully, his voice muffled in her shoulder. "Please don't leave me."

"I'm not going to leave you, sweetheart," she said, her voice choking. She moved her hand up to cradle his head, stroking through his short hair. "I'm right here." She placed tender kisses on his temple, gently wiping some of the tears that were soaking his face.

He was beyond exhausted. She felt his body going limp as he began to succumb to the overwhelming fatigue. He gasped in a breath between sobs and dropped his head onto her collarbone tiredly, using the last of his strength to keep his hold on her neck.

She shifted slightly so that he could stretch out beside her with his upper body cradled in her arms. Reaching below the seat, she pulled out three heavy emergency blankets and maneuvered herself so that she could wrap him snugly in them.

He was asleep within seconds, and she relaxed slightly before tightening her protective hold on him. Her heart was completely broken at the state of him. His face was splotchy, his arms were bleeding, his wrists were swollen, and a look of utter terror was fixed in his features, even while asleep.

But he was alive. Her best friend was alive and safe in her arms. She hugged him fiercely as her own fatigue and emotions came crashing out. She rubbed his back in soothing circles and rested her forehead against his, closing her eyes in relief and heartache. His tears mixed with her own and splashed onto the metal floor as she fell asleep.

**This has been quite an emotional journey for me…I am drained. Please stay tuned for the sequel, coming next week. Thank you for reading!**


	15. Chapter 15

This is not a chapter….but I just want to let everyone know again just how much I appreciated you reading my story. It was a pleasure to write, and the reviews I received were so encouraging. Knowing that I have readers out there enjoying my work makes it worthwhile, and I'll keep writing until you stop reading. Thank you for giving me the privilege to share a part of myself with you that I had been terrified to expose for years. In case any don't know, this story has a sequel. It is called "Spindles", and it picks up right where this one left off. If you aren't busy, check it out!


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